Connecting with God through poetic articulations of lived, embodied experience–engaging texts from the Revised Common Lectionary for Christian churches, other biblical and spiritual texts, and evocations of the divine in rituals and other public events–always accepting lived reality as a primary source of divine revelation and mystery.

Advent

A reflection for Advent 4, Year A

The conception not socially approved, an inauspicious start to marriage where the rule is the man’s right to be the first, but as we know this plays out differently. Joseph listens to God and the world is never the same. Is that not true every time we listen to God? Joseph, sainted Joseph, did not ask to raise a child technically not his, but what does that mean, not his? He claimed the baby, raised him in his trade, made sure he learned the Torah, respected his elders even when he knew more. This was a good father raising a blessed son.

The child was from the Holy Spirit; many wonder though If that means immaculate conception, parthogenesis, procreation without fertilization, or whether it means God’s blessing does not depend on following human rules. Is not every wanted child a gift from the Holy Spirit? Is a marriage license required by God for the child’s holiness? Can non-monogamous partners not give life to a blessed child? We spend so much energy trying to bend God to us when what Joseph, and so many others, show us is that God breaks rules, our rules, all the time.

We cannot contain God; if we could, God would not be God but god, an idol of our creation, the Creator being creature. We are wondrously made in God’s image, probably imagesin reality, not the other way around no matter our endless efforts to tell God who God is. The greatest spiritual gift is listening, a way of life requiring constant cultivation in order to defeat human need for control, and that means truly hearing and following what God says, including hard stuff, the counter-cultural directions and guidance, love bursting through and beyond all human restrictions.

A Reflection in Response to the 3rd Sunday in Advent, Year A

Text Focus: Psalm 146:5-10, Luke 1:45b-55, Matthew 11:2-11 Click here for all biblical textsHappy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in their God—truth known by John the Baptizer and Mary too. Can it be so with us? Dare we open our eyes enough to see God at work in every moment, read signs of the times and feel joy as God takes us on new journeys in faith? John did, and it led him to prison and death, while Mary’s life grew both inside and all about her, she proclaiming the gift of God’s favor, mercy and strength.

They seem so different, rough-clothed, even angry, on one hand (though might he be sweet in his own way), soft-spoken, gentle on the other (but so strong as well); yet both open to what God delivers— promise of salvation through another born to her, seen by him; she births, nurtures, the sprout, he witnesses the full-grown tree standing tall, speaking true in biblical witness in pages close together but separated by decades, yet saga tells us their births—John and Jesus—were close in time and even blood so they are cousins through their mothers’ line.

We know stories of these men as they live and die, almost side by side in Jerusalem and countryside, to carry God’s word to those who want to believe so long as it does not cost more than they, or we, will pay. If Mary had known she would weep at the foot of the cross on which hung her beloved son would then she praise or curse her fate, and his? And John, and his mother, cousin Elizabeth, would they then sing or speak in joy and love for the God of Jacob? The answer is yes, they did not count the cost dear but the chance to witness so much more than ever they dreamed in ordinary lives, a gift so rich their hearts ring full, Mary’s praises, John’s hand pointing to the one he came to announce.

Can it be so with us? Will we birth and nurture what God places in us trusting Holy One who is our soul and knows us inside out, from glowing darkness of God within, calling us to abandon old and narrow habits that block our own sacred living in a world that wants control and substitutes order for life? Will we cast out fear and choose joy, to take a chance on God?

A Meditation on the Second Sunday of Advent, Year A

This strange John arises out of the wilderness sounding like a crazy man wandering the streets muttering and yelling incantations we do not understand, or if we do not wishing to hear as we bustle to and fro from work to home to shopping, maybe even a party where we gather to celebrate the Savior’s birth with too much food and drink. He is not Isaiah though he uses the prophet’s words to declare his mission: big things are coming and the Lord is on his way!

He is far from the first to proclaim big God news; Isaiah himself tells us a shoot shall come from the stump of Jesse and a new branch, a new David, will arise to change everything, all the predators will cease, their victims shall not only breathe easy but all will lie down in peace and plenty, a glorious vision for humans while undoing animal ways of survival—and it cannot be disconnected from Isaiah’s immediately prior verses where stumps are made by divinity angry at the ruining of life, the distortion of human relationships, by people who profess to love God. Cedars of Lebanon are cut down in response to perfidy by God’s people.

Strange John also points with alarm at the practitioners of unholy or at least mixed religious rule and greed for lofty stations based on public pieties of his day—we might include, as Isaiah does, those who trample on the economically distressed and disempowered from their high towers of privilege and gold-fixtured bathrooms— even as we pray for the souls of all, proclaim the coming reign of God. singing Come, O Come, Emmanuel, ransom captive Israel.

But who is captive? Israel then as now for sure, to fear of neighbors and desire to stride regionally, but closer to home are we not captive as well, enthralled by our own national virtue, sure of the rightness of our cause in the world as we bicker and stab each other at home, unwilling to provide health care for all, end violence on our streets and campuses by controlling guns and transforming dead-end lives on mean streets through shared commitment to the well-being of all, no matter color, nation, religion, gender and all the rest.

Stop!

Could not this Advent be a time not only to honor tradition—getting ready in the usual ways for Jesus, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels, and wise men— but also to break with tradition and turn the world upside down, letting our world be turned upside down, inside out, waiting in hope not for what we want or expect under the tree, or at the pageant, but being fully open to receiving what God wants in our lives?

About this poem. . . . The figure of John the Baptizer never quite seems to fit in well-ordered worship; it is often hard enough to domesticate Jesus (but by and large much Christian practice and worship has succeeded all too well), but John really stands out. This is especially so as the stores and the web are alive with shopping deals and catchy, familiar Christmas songs. But the message this Sunday is quite clear and stark: repent and let God have God’s way.

Meditation on Advent 1, Year A

I was glad when they said to me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.

What other temple gives you so much joy? Is it your home, or your parental home, or maybe temples of shopping—Macy’s, Walmart, Target—where do you go for inspiration, nurture, joy and hope? Now, beginning the annual march toward Christmas, are we ready to enter the stable, familiar territory simultaneously strange and comforting, where few have actually ventured outside the obligatory pageant but where we see proof of God showing up ready or not.

Noah knew about this, and Pharaoh’s daughter too, Sarah and Paul, fishermen with nets to put down, later so full they cannot cope. Are we ever ready for God, I mean truly ready, eager, like a child waiting on emotional tiptoe for her natal day and the pile of gifts to tear open while gorging on cake and ice cream, not wanting it ever to end, ready or not?

The proverbial thief in the night comes with good news, our life is turned upside down, once settled in the north now we go south, or are drawn inexorably by a star in the east no one else can see— or is it they don’t want to see, maybe us, too, afraid to take a chance on God, we look away, hoping God comes at more convenient times?

Ready or not, our calendar measures mere time while God’s counts out yearning, divine desire for us to become all intended at conception—imagine if we followed God’s agenda, how much richer our individual lives, and the life of the world, would be! We could stop predicting and start listening, going with the flow of holy energy.

I was glad when they said to me, Let us go into the house of the Lord, ready or not.

About this poem . . . The urgency of Jesus’ teaching from this portion of Matthew, responding to the disciples’ anxiety about knowing when he will descend and the present age will end, can put off modern ears if we think that Jesus is endorsing violence and even what seems like capricious death (although death is often feels like that). Yet the underlying point that we need to be ready for God’s presence in our lives, and that we cannot know for certain how and when that presence will be enacted is fundamental to living a faithful life. We could stop trying to figure this out, and instead let the experience wash over us.

Believing God is different from believing in God Mary teaches us the difference knowing the mercy power help only God gives when we are open trusting willing. It is not easy but can be simple when we yield our need to be the sole agenda and see in signs of our times what God asks of us. The divine desire is what counts We must listen and feel the thumps inside our souls and bellies the word appearing in unlikely ways times places lemon vendors on the streets of Buenos Aires men in a bathhouse whispering sweet love trees in the woods sighing soft truth protestors chanting hope wounded communities living tough love. We know what to do. Not to look away not to pretend we do not hear but listen as if our lives depended on it as real lives do not the ones we put on for sleepwalking jaywalking speedwalking to get to the end rather than enjoy a pilgrimage with our holy tour guide seeing all the sites inviting us to sit a spell for what comes next praying to see the wisdom buried inside an ugly package unlikely call or unplanned pregnancy. Anyone can believe in God. It takes a real woman to go all the way.

Advent’s third Sunday known for joy a pink candle no one told John so he called out the brood of snakes he saw slithering around claiming holy lives keeping warm with coats some need more cheating others of funds bullies for personal gain. No mincing words still people thronged wondering who John is and he tells them I am the harbinger the forerunner of the One who will bless and baptize and toss into the fire those who fail to pay attention. This is Good News? Directions yes but a recipe for happiness not happiness overrated anyway Joy is the bigger deal lasting a lifetime no matter what comes even a crotchety prophet who points in the right direction we fear to go sheep bleating stammering backs up unwilling to be the first to go through the gate except to buy presents and pretend all is well while the world continues teetering closer to the edge of oblivion fail-safe trigger fingers cocked just in case figures on the chess board bolt their squares. In God We Trust we say but it is bombs armies soldiers sailors marines tanks guns generals admirals leaders who act tough we trust more markets tycoons corporations stocks bonds mortgages too profiting perhaps most of all But prophetic preaching was long ago another time another world a curiosity in the shop of spiritual memorabilia. Still he speaks. Will we catch the truth of joy within bearing salvation fruit to share with a frightened angry torn weary world that only knows nine shopping days ‘til Christmas?

Prophets rise in unlikely places crazy folk with car alarm voices breaking through the imposed peace of earthly order man or woman wearing rags even robesranting at passersby running like ants to work keeping their distance feeling beaten up life already has them gasping for air like a black man driving in the wrong part of town no peace. Where is peace? Is peace not our sacred gift birthright? In this violated world can there ever be peace And where have the peacemakers gone? When was the last time you met one on the street or the pew pulpit or Congress or in the mirror? We are each called and chosen too everyone tapped on the shoulder for a mission many decline yet the call remains in the courtyard of our hearts teasing us to come home to God to be reconciled in our Source the spring overflowing with peace to fill the valleys of despair and cut channels through mountains of armaments so we can touch the crooked arms of soldiers and cops help them lower their cocked ready weapons smooth out the roughness of their hearts and minds in the battlefields and urban and suburban wastelands to see God hanging out in every foxhole not for courage to fire or achieve accuracy of aim but for desire to love and live and hope praying— God prays without ceasing how do you think we know to pray— that someone listens someone hears someone sees someone claims the salvation promised again again ever given yet seeming just beyond our grasp. The high and mighty rarely speak the word of God preferring the sound of their own voices believing that what they see and say is all there is but the prophet rises in unlikely places maybe in our own soul.